


Candles

by ChloeWinchester



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Bullying, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-17
Updated: 2015-07-17
Packaged: 2018-04-09 17:59:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,874
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4358783
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChloeWinchester/pseuds/ChloeWinchester
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>With John and Jim's birthdays being so close, it only makes sense to have one party to share, even if they aren't too keen on the idea themselves.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Candles

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Johniarty](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Johniarty/gifts).



“But Mum-!”

“It’s not going to be that bad.”

“He’s a _baby,”_ the soon-to-be ten year old fussed. “Why do I have to have a baby at my party? All my friends will laugh at me.”

“He’s five, he’s not an infant, John. And besides, you might like him! He’s a smart little boy. Bit shy, though, so you be nice to him, understand?” His mother pressed, carrying bowls of crisps and dip out to the backyard with John running after her.

“What’s his name?” He asked, picking at his shirt nervously.

“James,” she said. “Or Jim. I dunno, he prefers one of the two. Start with James and see what he says.”

John sighed and slumped against the bench of the picnic table. “I don’t even know him, we’re not friends!”

“No, but his foster mother and I are. You’ll like him, John, don’t be so fussy. You might not even notice he’s here with all the fun you’ll be having. Just relax and enjoy your birthday.”

John looked around the backyard, twiddling his thumbs. The swing set had been fixed, Harry was coming with her friend Clara from down the street and it was alright with him if she didn’t want to stay too long - he just liked having his sister around. There was food and cake and all of his friends would be there And presents, of course, there would be presents.

The event wouldn’t be much, nothing too spectacular, but it was enough to make him happy. That and his father not being around to drink too much and upset everyone. He wouldn’t even be hit for simply existing in the same space as him tonight.

He could deal with sharing his birthday. Just this once, though.

~*~

“Why’s he so weird?”

“He won’t look at anyone.”

“Doesn’t talk either, I tried.”

“What’s his problem?”

“Maybe someone stole his lucky charms!”

John frowned, looking over the group of kids he was surrounded by to the little boy who was sitting all alone under the big tree in the corner.

He wasn’t doing anything, hadn’t said a word, hadn’t looked up at anyone all day and it was starting to annoy him a little. He didn’t like sharing his birthday either but there was no need to mope about like this.

The boy had short dark hair and big brown eyes that held light when the sun was on them, but when it went away they were just as black as his hair. His clothes were too big for his small, sparrow-like frame and his mum didn’t seem to care that he wasn’t playing with the other children.

When Mike’s words reached the boy’s ears he scowled at them, then curled his knees against his chest and rested his chin on them. He looked miserable.

All of his ideas about this boy from before disappeared. He couldn’t think he was babyish and rude and just being difficult when he looked so...sad. His resolve to help settled and swelled in his chest with his defensiveness.

“Mike, shut up!” John spat, glaring at him. “It’s not funny! Mum says he’s shy and you’re being mean!”

“Then you go talk to him!” Irene huffed, rolling her eyes.

John straightened up. “Okay, I will.”

James glanced at the much larger boy coming toward him and tensed, ready to fight if he needed to. He was supposed to be sharing this party with him, he was told. It didn’t feel like his party too. He didn’t know anyone here outside of getting yelled at on his way to the bus stop, he couldn’t eat anything out of the fruit tray that was closest to him because of all the strawberries inside and Mrs. Forrester had likely gone to drink whatever she could get her hands on while he was occupied here.

So he sat against the bark of the tree and fought to pretend the jeering children were little bugs he could crush when the time was right, little mindless nothings that didn’t matter.

However this boy seemed...to not want to hurt him. He relaxed a fraction, but still had no intention of speaking to him.

He pointedly looked away from John, picking at the grass instead.

John paused when he was close enough, watching him a moment to see if he would say hello or look at him, deciding to just sit down beside him when that didn’t happen.

Silence lapsed between them, and John understood he would have to be the one to speak first.

“I like sitting here too,” he said. “It’s nice. Shady. Private. Is that why you like it?” The younger boy shrugged. John looked around at the party again, watching the other children from his class run around and play, parents talking by the door. But he didn’t see anyone that rode Jim’s bus or lived around here. “When, um, when are your friends coming?”

James finally looked at him, a little crease in his forehead. “Friends?”

“Yeah,” John nodded, smiling at him. “Ya know, your mates. Other kids you like. There’s loads of kids your age around here.”

James blinked. “I don’t have any friends.”

John softened, his eyes sad. “You...you don’t?”

“No. Children don’t like me. They hate me. Laugh at me.” He glanced at the group John had been standing with. “I’m a freak and no one likes me.”

“Hey, that can’t be true!” John interjected, shaking his head. “They just don’t know you is all. Have you tried-”

“I’ve tried everything! No one likes me, no one wants to be my friend, just leave me alone!” He spat, his voice hard but his eyes were sad. It was just easier if he made people leave than keeping his hopes up that they might stay.

“Maybe I want to be your friend,” he said quietly, looking at him. James frowned and looked up again.

“Don’t make fun of me,” he said darkly. John shook his head, unperturbed.

“I’m not! I mean it,” he promised, nodding. “I want to be your friend.”

“But you’re a big kid,” he reminded.

“Uh huh, I am. But that doesn’t mean we can’t be friends!”

James looked around the boy, at the other children who were watching and whispering. “They won’t like it,” he said, nodding to them. John shrugged.

“Who cares? They’re stupid if they won’t at least talk to you.” He held out his hand to him. “I’m John, by the way. I didn’t say before.”

“I know your name,” he assured. “‘M Jim.”

They sat and talked for awhile, Jim mumbling out answers to John’s excited and happier questions. He didn’t really light up until John started talking about dragons. Then he was facing him, talking animatedly and sitting up on his knees to talk to John about all the stories he’d read about them and how much he liked fairytales.

“I really like knights,” John beamed. “But I hate it when the knight kills the dragon! Why can’t they just be friends?”

“That’s what I wonder!” Jim sighed, shaking his head and looking up when John’s mum called him over for presents.

In his excitement John ran off without him, rushing to the seat his mother had gotten for him and sat down while everyone gathered around him.

Jim’s smile faded away and he slowly made his way to the far end of a bench and sat still, watching quietly.

John opened the little gifts his friends got him, and Jim looked on with this ache in his tummy. All these other children cared for John so much they brought him things to say so. He felt bad he hadn’t brought John something too. But he realized, as he looked at what was his ‘half’ of the presents table, that he had nothing.

John’s mum and sister had things for him too. They kissed his head and smiled at him and said kind things. Jim hadn’t even seen Mrs. Forrester since he got here, not that it mattered. She didn’t hug him or pat his head or tell him nice things like John’s family did.

With sad eyes and a heavy little heart Jim tried to be happy for his new friend and the things he’d gotten and stayed quiet so none of the other children would notice how alone and unloved he was. Perhaps he never got any presents because he was bad.

John looked up when he’d opened his last one and thanked everyone for what they did, smiling at Jim. “Your turn!” He exclaimed, equally as happy to see Jim enjoy his birthday. The moment he met Jim’s eyes, however, he was aware he’d done something wrong. He saw the deep, horrible sadness in his eyes and he looked toward the presents table, seeing it empty.

A low, sinking feeling that he’d done something horrible filled John’s throat. He’d pointed out to everyone and now they were all looking at him now. They all knew that Jim had nothing and it pleased some of them to know. John looked helplessly to his mother, who’d also just noticed how alone the little boy was.

“I don’t get any,” Jim said softly. “It’s okay.”

John could only look at him and wish he hadn’t humiliated him like this, and all his mother could think to do was bring out John’s cake and try and distract everyone while looking for his foster mother.

The children whispered and babbled to each other, Jim’s eyes firmly planted on his hands. His cheeks were bright red, his nose pink and John knew he was trying not to cry, but he didn’t know what to do to help.

The cake came out just as he was getting up, and he couldn’t get away long enough to pull James beside him so they could blow out the candles together.

They sang to him, and Jim slipped away without anyone noticing him. He toddled off alone, hugging himself and hating this wretched day. He knew he wasn’t special but did they have to tell him so cruelly?

He didn’t deserve friends or cake or presents, he wasn’t good enough for that. He wished he’d just been told instead of being brought here to have it shown to him. He was deservedly unloved and understandably unwanted. So he’d leave.

He reached in the pockets off his too-big denims and threw the handful of firecrackers he had into the grill.

The first smile of the day came from the screams and shouts of the kids who laughed at him during the melee.

~*~

John watched Jim throw the firecrackers in, but he didn’t say anything. The grill had tipped over and sent coals and firecrackers all over the patio and everyone was running around and screaming in fear or anger and trying to calm the chaos while Jim slipped away and John decided what to do.

He grabbed two pieces of birthday cake and an empty present bag and ran inside. He dashed up to his room, grabbed something off the shelf and tossed it in the bag and quickly ran back out front.

“Jim, wait!”

The boy paused on the sidewalk, turning around. “I’m sorry I ruined your party,” he called. “But please, just leave me alone, I just want to go home. I’ll get in trouble later.”

“Please, don’t go!” John answered, walking closer to him. “I don’t care about that! You didn’t ruin anything it...it was actually kind of funny.” He smiled at him, and Jim gave a curious look back.

“What do you want, John?”

“I want to sing you happy birthday!” He explained, showing him the plates. Jim looked at them and John warily. “C’mon, I just want to sing to you.”

Slowly, Jim stepped back into the yard and climbed up to John’s porch with him.

“You have any more firecrackers?” John asked. Jim nodded, taking one out and offering it to him. John stuck it in the piece of cake, where he’d drawn Jim’s name into the icing and gave it to him. “Just pretend it’s lit.” Jim nodded, taking it carefully. John cleared his throat.

“Happy birthday to you…”

Jim stared at the cake, his mind scrambling for some wish, maybe the only one he’d get in his whole life.

“...happy birthday to you…”

He didn’t know what he wanted, what he could possibly want in the sea of things he wasn’t allowed to have.

“...Happy birthday, dear Jim…”

He looked up at John, who was radiating light and warmth. He was smiling at him, happy to be close to him, even touching his shoulder why he sang the off-key little tune, just for him. He went out of his way to do this, just to make him feel special. Maybe even wanted.

“Happy birthday to you.”

Jim shut his eyes and blew out the imaginary candle.

“Yay!” John grinned, scooting closer to him, taking the firecracker out and tossing it away. “What’d you wish for?”

“Can’t tell or it won’t come true,” he said softly, shy. John giggled and started eating his own piece.

“Okay! Oh! Here,” he thrust the bag at him with a big smile. “Have to have a present on your birthday.”

“You… John, this is yours, I can’t take it,” he said softly, pushing it back toward him.

“I want to give it to you, Jim,” the boy pressed, smiling warmly at him. Jim shook his head.

“I don’t have anything for you, it’s not fair,” he mumbled, looking between John and the bag.

“I got all kinds of stuff from everyone. And if you smile, then that’s a present enough. Please, Jim, I want you to have this,” he insisted. Jim sighed and finally gave in.

“Okay,” he sighed, taking the bag and reaching in to retrieve the present.

It was a stuffed rabbit. Cream colored with a pink nose and eyes the same color as his and hardly played with at all. It looked like something one might get in the Easter section at a drug store, and Jim was in love with it.

He touched the rabbit carefully, stroking its ears  and its nose, finally raising his eyes to John’s. “This, this is really for me?” John nodded with a big smile that Jim quickly returned. “Thank you so much, I love it.”

The blond hugged Jim nice and tight, happy to see his smile and cuddled him close for a moment. Jim started, unused to such attention, and hugged John back as tight as his little arms would allow.

“I’m glad you like it. I’m a little old for stuffed bunnies but I liked this one’s eyes. And they look just like yours.”

“What’s his name?” Jim asked, touching him with reverie. John shrugged.

“Whatever you want it to be,” he assured.

The younger boy sighed and shrugged back. “Well I don’t know. I’m not good at names.”

“How about Hamish?” John asked. “That’s my middle name.”

“Hamish,” James repeated, grinning. “Yeah. Yeah, I like Hamish, that’s a pretty name!”

“It is?”

“Mmhm!” Jim grinned, tucking Hamish against his side and picking up his plate of cake.

“I’m glad we shared our birthdays,” he whispered, looking back at his plate.

Jim smiled up at John and carefully ate his cake, relishing how good it felt to have something like this, and to have someone eating with him that wasn’t disgusted by the sight of him.

“Even after...all that?” He asked, looking back toward his house.

Jim nodded. “Yeah. Best birthday I’ve ever had.”  He licked icing off of one of his fingers and smiled gently at John, who was beaming.

“Really? Well, gosh, I’m glad!” He giggled, hugging Jim again, mindful of the cake. “I do hope you have better birthdays later though.”

Jim smiled, leaning up and kissing John’s cheek. “I wish.”

~*~

It was a coincidence, their growing up and seeing each other again, but time and adulthood cloud memories and people often forget little things, like birthdays and stuffed rabbits and friends they only had for the shortest of times.

However, John and Jim were still enormously drawn to one another, even after the bomb in the pool and all the other silly games with Sherlock it was as if they were meant to be.

Coming back to his flat on a day he often fought to forget and the dreadful clouds that hung around him when he couldn’t escape it and finding John sitting with dinner ready, a cake made and a present on the table, he remembered.

Little flashes of a sweet blond boy who gave him his first present -as well as his second-  and sang happy birthday to him again. Off key, soft and into his ear while he held him in the doorway of the dining room, Jim remembered this man was more special to him than he originally anticipated.

It wasn’t until he saw the lone firecracker in the middle of the cake he realized John knew too, and in fact, had never forgotten.

“Just pretend to blow it out,” John smiled, and Jim looked up at him, pulling him close and kissing him.

“I don’t need to, Johnny boy,” he said quietly. “First one already came true.”

 


End file.
